Fledgling
by TradedMistakes
Summary: Two years after the episode in Manhattan, Clint Barton is still trying to recover from the aftermath of Loki's destruction. Anise Roberts is one of the many dealing with Loki's mischief as well. When Clint is assigned to watch Anise, he starts to realize that Loki isn't the only one causing damage, and SHIELD is hiding more secrets than either of them can start to comprehend.
1. Chapter 1

"I didn't sign up for this stupid daycare of yours, Fury." Clint picked at his dirty fingernails while he stood in a dank motel room, pushing an old cell phone against his cheek. Through his tinted sunglasses, he could see the person of interest sitting on a musty couch by the window overlooking the motel balcony, reading a magazine with careful interest. She looked over to where he was standing at the "daycare" comment and stuck her tongue out at him, to which he just pulled out a birdie in reply.

"It's only for a few hours, Barton. You're under direct order to make sure she isn't kidnapped or killed, got it?"

He huffed into the receiver. "I understand, sir."

"Good, then get back to work." And with that, the SHIELD director hung up.

Clint flipped the phone shut and sat down on another couch. He didn't talk or make any effort to have a conversation, just sat and fiddled with the fletching on one of his arrows.

"I can handle myself you know, if it's such a problem."

Clint looked up to where a face hiding among a mess of black curls was looking back at him. She made a little "hmm" sound and looked back at her magazine, as if waiting for an answer.

"I'm under direct order to stay here-I couldn't leave even if the building was on fire."

"Well, isn't that a comforting thought? Hopefully that means _I _would be able to leave." She licked the tip of her index finger and flipped another page.

Clint allowed himself a smirk. "I don't think so."

"Damn! Well, let's hope that if that happens that the firemen will get here before we burn to death then."

"Doubt it."

She grinned. "Yeah, I wouldn't count on it either."

He started cleaning his arrows this time, more intent on passing the time. The silence was deafening, as there wasn't much going on outside.

"You're pretty quiet, you know."

"I'm just not interested in conversation at the moment."

"And why not?"

"Because it'll make the time go slower, and the faster the time goes, the faster I can get back home."

"Oh, okay."

He figured she had taken the hint, until she piped up a few minutes later.

"So where do you live?"

"New York."

"Oh, that's cool."

"Yeah." He narrowed his eyes at the girl staring back at him.

"…so where do you live in New York?"

He looked up again with angry eyes at the girl.

"Are you kidding me?"

"I'm sorry; I just haven't met many people who don't like talking other than me. It's weird, I feel like I need to fill the awkward space."

"Trust me, it's not awkward." He stood up to get something to drink in the kitchen. Fingering through the cabinets, he found a coffee maker.

"It actually kind of is."

"Is not."

"Is too!"

"You have a book, an IPod, two magazines, and a TV-what more do you need?"

"Someone to talk to that isn't on their man period."

He looked out from the corner to where she was leafing through a magazine again. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing." She muttered.

"That's what I thought." He set the machine on HIGH and sat back down, flipping the TV onto the news channel. On the screen, multiple helicopters were flying around an apartment building that was set on fire. Clint tried flipping the channel before she could see, but she noticed the headline before the screen switched to the cooking channel.

"Wait, what was that?"

"Nothing."

"It said 'gas leak at apartment building on Arch Street, five dead.' Hey, flip back to the news." Her face was hard and stony, which only made Clint feel more guilt.  
"No."

"Clint-"

"You don't need to see that."

"Yes, I do. Now flip the channel."

"I said no, and that's final."

"But-"

"How's your magazine?"

She raised an eyebrow and looked back at the marksman. "Seriously? You really want to play that game?"

"Yes."

She gave him an incredulous look and walked over to grab the remote, but he held it out of her reach.

"Please give me the remote!"

"No, you don't need to see it!"

"Yes I do! My parents could be dead, please, I need to know!" He paused and watched the face looking back at him. She wasn't crying, wasn't screaming, she was just staring with deep concentration. "Please?" He didn't want to impose on her any further. Slowly, he held the remote in two shaky hands and flipped back to the news channel, where smiling faces were appearing in older portraits to name the fallen victims.

"Two victims have been identified, five year old Clarisse Wells and her grandfather, eighty-four year old Michael Wells. The other three have yet to be identified by police-"He turned the TV off to a black screen. In it, he saw her careful reflection that looked back at him with big eyes.

"See, they're probably fine, nothing to worry about. Now let's go get something to eat." He stood up and grabbed his keys on the nightstand, but she didn't move.

"It wasn't a gas leak, was it?"

He was quiet-he didn't know how to respond.

"That Loki guy…he sent someone in to kill them, right? To get to me?"

"You don't even know if that's your apartment building."

"I saw the address, and I would know where I've lived for the past eight years of my life!"

"Anise-"

"What if he kidnapped them? How would we know?"

"Loki wouldn't do that"

"But how do you know, really?"

"Because I've worked for that psychopath before against my own will. I was the one he sent in for those sorts of things. Trust me, I would know."

She was stunned, staring at him with her mouth agape.

"Now are we getting something to eat, or what?"

"I guess."

"Good. And put a jacket on, it's chilly."

She smirked as he picked up a gun and tucked it into his jacket. "And since when were you my dad?"

"Since Fury signed me up for his little daycare business." He was smiling a bit, enjoying himself a little too much. "C'mon, slowpoke."


	2. Chapter 2

The nearby McDonald's was pretty empty as the two pulled up in the drive thru. A few cars were parked while one was in the drive thru already, but that was about it. Then again, it's not like everyone was rushing to get a Big Mac at 10:30 at night.

"Just some French fries and a pop is fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." She looked back out the window at some nearby walkers. One of them had a beer bottle in his hand and was loosely waving it around. Of course, the drunks just had to finish up a little earlier than usual.

"Hi, welcome to McDonald's, how can I help you?"

Clint leaned out the window to speak to the cheerful worker. "I'll have two Big Macs, one chicken nugget combo, two medium French fries, one cheeseburger, and…three McFlurries."

"Alright sir, anything else?"

"Are you planning on eating all of that yourself?" Anise raised an eyebrow, looking up from her IPod. "Or are you planning on donating some of that to the homeless shelter?"

"You said you wanted French fries, right?"

"Yes, but not a three course meal."

"Well, you can have your French fries and a cheeseburger, then save the rest for later. Sound like a plan?"

The woman came back on the intercom with her cheery voice again. "That'll be $49.50 at the window."

"Thanks"

"You're completely serious. You're really getting all that food." She couldn't believe herself. She laughed out the window, to the dismay of the pedestrians.

"I never said _I _wasn't hungry."

"Well, if you think hungry means the ability to eat half the menu at McDonald's, then sure, you're hungry." Clint furrowed his eyebrows at the front seat passenger, who had a devilish smirk on her face. The car lurched forward and they reached the front window to greet the worker, who seemed even happier in person than over the intercom. Clint handed her the money and she went to work, calling out orders to her co-workers.

Just across the street, the late night pedestrians were making their way over to where the two were parked. Anise eyed them with interest, but stayed calm, hoping that if the worst were to happen, then Clint would worry more about her own safety than the safety of his dinner. She watched them as they came closer. She dissected the way they walked, how they staggered into the fluorescent streetlight. She noticed the way one of them fidgeted in their pockets, as if to prepare a weapon of choice. She gulped, nervously reaching for the button to roll up her window.

"Clint."

"Hmm?" He was already taking a slurp of his drink.

"Those guys-"

"Don't worry, just a bunch of drunks. Your door's locked, right?"

"I can't get it to lock, the button's broke."

"Just hold the handle tight, and don't let go, got it?"

"I think so."

"Good." He set one bag on the floor and started to pick up a drink tray from the worker. He was too preoccupied to see one of the men pull out a knife and attempt to throw it before he could react.

The knife hit the glass with a sickening thud and cracked the entire windshield. Clint dropped the drinks in a rush, which spilled on the expanse of street between the car and the drive thru window. He quickly pushed Anise's head down and backed the car up quickly, eager to escape the attackers. "Keep your head down until I say it's okay, alright?"

"I got that, just drive already!"

The vehicle sped forward quickly, causing some of the broken glass to slide into the car and onto the street. Another one of the attackers pulled out a gun and started to fire, but couldn't land a single shot. One of the men hit the hood of the car and flipped over wildly, landing on the cement street far away from his cronies. Two men continually fired at Clint and Anise, one of them hitting the backseat window, but not getting anywhere near their intended targets. The car swerved onto the street, almost grazing a nearby vehicle, but Clint was a careful enough driver.

"You can put your head up now."

She didn't move. Her hands were clasped behind her neck, her whole body was lurched forward so far, and it almost looked like she was going to vomit. Focusing on the oncoming traffic, he checked to see what was behind him before shaking the kid next to him. "Hey, it's alright, we lost 'em." She still didn't move. "You still there?"

"...yeah?"

"You can look up now."

"I think I got some glass in my neck."

"You sure?" She slowly moved her hands to reveal a spot where a small amount of blood was pooling against the palm of her hand.

"Eh, just a scratch. We'll clean it up back at the motel, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

They drove in silence for a while, Clint focused on any possible threats, Anise still shaken from the shooting. She played with her thumbs, tracing the outlines of her fingernails. Her hands were shaking wildly.

"Do you think that was just a coincidence or completely on purpose?"

Clint looked over to where she was sitting. She was looking to him for a direction, a lead as to what was going on.

"I'm not sure."

"There really is something wrong with me, isn't there? I know SHIELD knows something, I know they want me for a purpose, but they won't even bother telling me. I know this Loki character wants me dead or alive because of it. What's going on?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know anything? Anything at all?"

"Sorry kid. I wish I did."

"…do you know how long they've been tracking me at least?"

"Look, I just got called out to babysit, and I came. My employers believe in only filling me in with information they believe I'll need, not what they believe I'll want."

"Don't you think it'd be a little pertinent to know some background information?"

"I was halfway across the world before I came here, I didn't have the time to get some background information."

"Wait, why would they call you from halfway across the world just for one mission? I mean, no offense, but couldn't some underling do your job just as well?"

"That's what worries me. I have no clue why I'm here or what's going on. But I do know one thing-you need some self-defense training." He turned into the motel parking lot, putting the broken jeep in park.

"And why's that?"

"Because you're involved in something bigger than the both of us can comprehend right now."


	3. Chapter 3

"The first thing you need to remember is to always be aware of your surroundings. Understand what the person at the counter's doing, what the child in the corner is eating, who the man in the elevator is talking to, and what the woman on the stairwell is carrying. Your main obstacles will most likely be the people around you and what they're doing in a life or death situation. Understand?"

"Yeah." Anise muttered as she munched on a French fry. They were sitting on the roof of the motel while Clint gave her minor tips on self-defense while they ate their dinner. The wind pushed in lightly, making the temperature a tad cooler than before. Not like Clint was complaining-he liked the fresh air. Anise on the other hand, was chilled to the bone.

"Why are we outside? And on the roof, of all places? I'm practically freezing to death."

"Because it's nice out and I think better in high-up places. Also, it wouldn't kill you to step outside every once in a while."

"Haha, very funny. I would step outside if the agents let me. They barely allow me to open the window up these days."

"What do you mean?"

She huffed, shoving a few more French fries in her mouth before speaking. "Before you came, I had been staying on the Helicarrier or whatever you call it for a few months. No answers, no explanations, I just had to go. Couldn't even tell my own parents I was leaving, you know." She paused, almost for dramatic effect. It seemed to work like that on Clint, anyways. "Every other day or so, I'd wake up and a new agent would be by the door to watch me through the day, make sure I wasn't getting in trouble or anything. They wouldn't let me do anything, it seemed. I just stayed there and someone came in and taught me what I was missing at school and I would go along with what they told me. The agents wouldn't talk to me if I started asking questions, either. It was something around three months or so that I had been there when they told me I was heading back to land and they sent me here and then you showed up. And that's my story."

He sat in the silence and mulled over her words. She just watched his careful expression while munching on a chicken nugget, waiting to hear his reply.  
"But wait, if you were on the Helicarrier for at least three months, then why didn't I hear about you?"

"I dunno. Do you normally know these kinds of things?"

"Most of the time, yes. Or my partner Natasha does."

"Natasha, huh? Is she your girlfriend or somethin'?"

His eyes narrowed at his companion, who was giggling back at him. "None of your business, squirt. Now back to training-"

"Aww Clint, please? I just wanna know, now I'm curious." She smiled while taking a sip of her pop. He shook his head, laughing to himself.

"Maybe another time, alright?"

"Sure."

* * *

They spend the rest of the night watching a movie indoors after training, to which Anise fell asleep to. She excitedly had flipped the TV onto to the showing of some movie called "The Hunger Games", and hadn't peeled her eyes away from the screen until she started drifting into unconsciousness. Clint hadn't had the time to see a movie in a while, nonetheless know what was playing in theaters as of recent. He didn't mind, though. They just made him more anxious-did they really expect him to calmly sit in a dark room for two hours among hundreds of potential terrorists? He would watch a movie when he was at home though. That he could handle.

He sat in a ball, knees tucked up to his chest as he watched the agonizing death of a girl named Rue. The sight of death just made him sigh and look away. He saw enough of it at work; he wasn't interested in seeing any more in a movie. He looked over to where Anise was hugging a pillow, with one leg dangling off the couch, and her head rolled over to the side.

_"Clint, have you ever thought about having kids?"_

_"Excuse me?" The question was random and very surprising for someone like Natasha, at that._

_"You know-settling down, having a family, the stuff normal people dream about." _

_"Yeah-keyword; normal. Like I could just run away from all this and have a family." He started to walk off, but she grabbed his arm last minute. _

_"Clint"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I'm serious. It's only a question, don't worry."_

_"…Well, then yes. I have, but I don't know anyone I would want to settle down with besides you."_

_She frowned, and then nodded. Her steel-like grip released from his arm but he didn't move. The expression in her eyes was pained, like he had hit a nerve._

_"But I'm not saying that it's impossible, you know."_

_"You don't have to sugarcoat it. I understand you don't want to drag anyone else into your work." She left him standing there, wondering the meaning behind her mysterious words._

He didn't want to drag anyone else into his work-that was true. But the way she said it…it kind of killed him inside. He loved Natasha to death, and he would bend over backwards just to see her smile, but they would only be a liability. Another way to make his everyday work more fragile and his job more serious to the lives of others. He knew she wouldn't live with herself if anything happened, if someone found out and decided to keep their child as leverage, and he didn't want to hurt her in ways that she didn't need to be hurt. She was strong, but even the strongest men fall for their weakest child.

He stood up and grabbed a blanket from one of the motel beds and set it over Anise for the night. Grabbing his own, he sat back on the couch and curled to the side, thinking back to that night with Natasha and wondering if her question was brought on by more than her own curiosity.


	4. Chapter 4

Clint peeled his eyes open as soon as he could sense the morning sunlight coming in through the dirty windows. He was awake; no doubt about it, but what he didn't know was that he wasn't the first to rise. Slowly, he rolled on his side to stand up and yawn.

"Morning, sunshine. I was wondering when you'd bother waking up."

"Jesus, kid!" Clint had fallen over in shock and hit his head on the coffee table. "What are you doing up so early?"

She shrugged. "I was hungry-see?" She held up a leftover chicken nugget for proof.

"Chicken nuggets at nine in the morning? Sounds a little unhealthy, don't you think?"

He only earned a shrug in response.

"Right. Well, is there any coffee left?"

"Hmm? Oh, I think so." The scent was so strong, it was almost tangible. It wafted through the dank room and drew Clint to the kitchen, where the coffee machine was perched on the counter. With a stifled yawn, he grabbed a mug and started to pour himself his own cup.

"So are we doing more training today?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute to wake up." Taking a long chug, he slammed the mug on the counter and rubbed his hands together. She munched on the last of the chicken nuggets, until Clint asked if she was finished with the makeshift breakfast. In a few minutes, they pushed the old furniture as closely to the walls as possible and tucked away anything that could become a last minute hazard while training. It wasn't completely safe for combat training, but Clint could train any operative in any situation if he really needed to.

"So what are we starting with today? A knife, a gun, a bow and arrow-"

"Basic defense skills. Hand to hand combat, nothing too complicated."

"But why can't I learn how to use any of the cool stuff?"

"Because you always have to start with the basics. And you're not always going to have a weapon at your disposal, but you'll most likely have your arms and legs."

Anise's eyes widened. "Most likely? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You never know." He said, chuckling.

She just stared back, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. "Well, alright then. Let's get to training then."

"Sure. Now, what's the number one rule I taught you?"

"Always be aware of your surroundings."

"Good. Remember that and you've got a good head start on your opponent. Now what?"

"If you can, stay on your feet. Keep your attacker where you can see them-"

"And?"

"And don't fight if you don't have to."

He nodded with approval. "Good. Now let's practice some basic moves." He made a mock stance, as if coming to attack Anise. "Imagine that I'm the attacker."  
"Alright-"

"And don't go easy on me, I can take a hit."

"Wasn't planning on it." Anise smirked, flashing her pearly whites. Clint just laughed in response.

She started walking in a circle, arms loose and at her sides. Clint followed her movements, keeping his arms out in front of him. Sometimes he would turn the other direction, sometimes fake a movement and make Anise stagger, but he didn't attack right away. As they kept turning in circles, he made a last minute move after she tripped on a dent in the carpet. He dropped to his knees and swiped one leg to kick out both of hers from under her. Within an instant, she had fallen over and he stood back up, satisfied with himself.

"What did I say about staying on your feet?"

She huffed, moving quickly to stand up again. "I know, I just tripped. Sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it. Let's try again, and no tripping, got it?"

"Alright."

They returned to their original stances and continued to go through the exercise until they achieved the desired results. It was difficult for Anise to keep up with the master assassin, but after a few tries, she managed to trip him instead. They trained like this for the rest of the day (with some breaks for lunch and dinner, of course), until they could barely manage to stand on both feet. The digital clock signaled 10:13 pm on the nearby nightstand when they had finished.

"Good job today. I'll teach you some more basics tomorrow."

She let out an annoyed moan in response. "Why can't I learn any of the fun stuff?"

"Because you can barely manage the stuff they teach you in level one karate-and that's for kindergarteners and first graders, by the way."

"Hey!"

Clint snickered. "Well, it's true!"

She stuck her tongue out in response. He rolled his eyes, flipping on the television to watch some late night news. As Anise curled back into the couch for some well-deserved sleep, Clint heard a small whisper.

"Hey Clint?"

"Yeah?"

"…thanks."

"For what?"

"For the training. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it."

He could've sworn he heard a small giggle, but he didn't make a big deal out of it. The soft breathing blended in with the droning voice of the newscaster, and before he knew it, Clint was asleep too.


	5. Chapter 5

"Try again."

"I've been 'trying again' for three hours. I don't think it's going to come to me any time soon."

"Nonsense, keep practicing. That's what my teachers always told me. You'll never learn if you don't practice." They were pacing around the living room again, practicing a mock fight, but this time with stolen boxing gloves. While Clint's large hands fit easily into the worn-in gloves, Anise could barely support the gloves with her weak arm muscles. In one week, she had improved at her battle strategies a tad, but not a significant amount. To put it in simpler terms, if she was caught up in a fight, she would probably end up on the losing side.

She held her hands up again in front of her, straining to keep them in the position Clint had taught her for the best defense stance. Clint threw two jabs at her face and she barely ducked in time, avoiding a nice shot to the face. She hit him in the stomach, but only lightly, as Clint easily moved to the side afterwards and countered with a jab in the arm. She topped over in one swift movement, landing on the ground with a painful thud.

"Okay, I think we're done here!" She yelled, shouting into the dirty carpet.

"Nonsense! C'mon, get up."

"I don't wanna!"

"Anise-"

"I'm not getting up, and you can't make me!"

Just as Clint was about to get her up, a light rasp came from the motel door. They paused, not bothering to move or even breathe, it seemed, as a knock came from the door again.

"Stay right there." Clint whispered. Looking up, Anise nodded and slinked over behind one of the motel beds. He grabbed a handgun, just in case, and quietly made his way to the door. He lingered at the peephole for a few seconds before opening the door to a middle-aged man in a suit.

Anise relaxed from her tensed up position. "Oh goody, another SHIELD agent. Just the type of person I was looking forward to seeing on my 'vacation'." She made an emphasis on vacation while sitting down at the kitchen table. The man at the door ignored her, turning to his coworker first.  
"Agent Sterling."

"Agent Barton, good to see you."

Clint smiled, but made no effort to return the kind gesture. "Is there a problem back at base?"

"Well, not exactly. I actually need to speak to Ms. Roberts, if you don't mind."

"Ah, right. Come on in, then." He awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair while gesturing for the case worker to come inside. He sat down at what seemed to be the dining table, where Anise was flipping through a magazine. He pulled out some papers as Clint moved to join them, setting them in front of him.

"Ms. Roberts, I have some unfortunate news to report. There was a…gas leak at your apartment about a week ago and-"

Anise, looking up, held a finger in the air. "Wait, wait, wait a minute. First off, do you really expect me to believe that was a gas leak?"

"I um-excuse me?"

"Okay, so you SHIELD agents more or less kidnap me for three months, right? Then you send me back to my hometown all of a sudden, and put me under house arrest, more or less, and then the exact apartment building I used to live in experiences a 'gas leak' while I'm away. Now, that doesn't sound right to me. So, I'm going to ask you one more time, do you really expect me to believe that was just a gas leak?"

Both Clint and Agent Sterling were taken aback. For someone her age, she held an air of confidence that was shocking to someone who didn't know her very well. The man tensed under her gaze and glanced over to his superior for advice, who only nodded with a strict glare.

"Well, investigations are suggesting that it may have not been a gas leak, but rather a bomb of some sorts and-"

"Mhm, yeah, that's what I thought. Anyways, continue." She looked back down at her magazine, flipping through the pages. Clint stifled a laugh, trying not to seem too entertained by the way his colleague was being perfectly analyzed by a fifteen year old girl. Agent Sterling cleared his throat before continuing.

"And after careful examination, the investigation teams discovered two bodies that have been identified as your parents."

She stopped on the page she was looking at. Her hand was frozen in mid flip, her eyes glued to a picture in the corner. The man handed her a few of the papers, including official statements from the investigation and what looked to be their will.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Roberts."

She slowly looked up-but not at the papers handed to her. Not at Agent Sterling. No, she directly looked at Clint, sitting across the table from her, watching the way she started to crumble. She didn't start crying, or screaming, or trembling, or anything he expected her to do. Her eyes were just wide as she stared back at him. She was still holding the magazine page in her hand, still waiting for permission to keep glancing through. Still looking for someone to say that everything is going to be alright. And that someone she was looking for was Clint, who couldn't bring himself to say anything back to the face looking at him.

He wanted to say he understood, to say anything that would make that damn face stop looking at him for the answers. Why wasn't Natasha here? She would know what to do. She was the one who could handle Tony Stark, who could handle anything. If he told her that, she would easily counter by saying something about how well he handled being around Loki, but that was against his own will. It wasn't like he was simply willing to handle a deranged demi god and make him feel like rainbows and butterflies-it was beyond his own control.

He didn't realize that as he began to space out, Anise had started looking through the papers. "Thank you for um…telling me."

"It's the least we can do." She winced at the 'we', understanding that he was talking about his whole company, not just himself. "Unfortunately, you and Agent Barton will have to be relocated for the time being. An agent will arrive in less than an hour to take the both of you to your next location. Any further information will be in this file, Agent Barton."

Clint was still somewhere else, somewhere away from the others. "Agent Barton?"

"Hmm?"

"The file?" Anise looked up at him expectantly, eyeing the folder, then looking back at him. It only made him more nervous.

"Ah, yeah. Right. Got it. Thanks Sterling."

"See you around, Barton." And with that, he stood up and left, leaving the two to bask in an awkward silence. Clint didn't know what to say as she read through the will, tracing around highlighted areas on the paper.

"Is there…um…anything we need to pick up before we leave?" _Really, Clint?, _He thought to himself. _Is that all you could think of?_

"No, I think we're good. Just the stuff in the room I guess." She eyed the messy motel room, feeling partially guilty for leaving the place in such a mess.

"Alright-we better pack up then."

Quietly, the two cleaned in what seemed like an instant. In less than an hour, their bags were packed, the trash was cleaned up, and the beds were made-not in perfect condition, though. They checked out early and waited on the curb of the front driveway for their ride.

Clint couldn't formulate the words he wanted to say. He wanted to say it was okay to cry, that it was okay to feel scared, to feel lost. But his mouth was almost clamped shut. Luckily, he didn't have to speak.

Her tone was quiet, but thoughtful when she spoke up. "My parents always told me I shouldn't cry when someone dies. They never punished me if I did, they just believed that it was pointless to cry over someone when they're never coming back, you know?"

He paused, mulling over her words. He just nodded, trying to find the right thing to say. Something came back to him in an instant, from a distant memory he had long forgotten.

"But why did they say it was pointless?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when someone dies, we don't really cry over the fact that they're dead, do we? We cry because they'll never get to talk to you again, or spend time with you, or do the things they love."

She stared right at him, a look of light confusion on her face.

"Someone told me that once, when a close friend of mine died. I never really thought about it until now."

"Well, that would make sense I guess."

They didn't press the conversation any further, as their ride had finally bothered to show up after being ten minutes late. Without a word, they stepped into the black SUV, and drove off to the next hideout. During the whole ride, neither person brought up the discussion they had beforehand, even though it left a lasting impression on the both of them.


	6. Chapter 6

The SUV driver, a young SHIELD agent by the name of Agent Phillips, greeted them accordingly as Clint sat in the front seat and Anise crawled into the back. The trio exchanged quick introductions before asking any questions.

"So where exactly are we headed?"

"I'm under direct orders to send you to Mr. Stark's beach house in Miami."

Clint looked over at his co-worker in shock. "Why there?"

"SHIELD requested a location with high security features, and it was the only available location at the moment."

Anise smiled and leaned forward, edging her way into the conversation. "So does that mean I get to meet Iron Man?"

Clint frowned, looking over at the backseat passenger. "And why would you be so excited to meet Iron Man? You're already hanging out with the best avenger out of them all!"

She scoffed. "I didn't know I was hanging with Captain America-have you seen him around somewhere? He must be lost."  
Agent Phillips laughed while Clint held up a hand in mock defense. "Ooh, that hurts."

She just smiled and leaned back in her seat, content with herself.  
"Mr. Stark is currently at Stark Tower, but his assistant should be at the beach house for the weekend."

"You mean Pepper Potts?"

"Yes, Ms. Potts is on a temporary vacation there currently."  
Clint nodded and looked back out onto the street they were driving on. As he looked out, he watched as they passed the Illinois state border and a new sign, one saying "welcome to Kentucky" appeared in his line of sight.

With her forehead pressed to the window, Anise vaguely thought back to when she used to travel with her parents as a child. She was never in one place, it seemed, as her parents had a tendency to pack up and leave on the slightest whim. She remembered weekends where she would skip going to birthday parties and spend a weekend with grandma and travel to Worlds of Fun or Washington DC instead. She liked it at first, always having a suitcase packed in case her parents woke her late at night to say they were going on a trip, but as she grew older, she wanted to become more grounded and just stay in Illinois for as long as possible. She hated leaving when she was older because her parents figured she could just stay in a hotel while they had fun and drank at foreign bars while she was left alone with the pay per view television. The last time she had taken a trip before the whole SHIELD mess began was five months or so beforehand, when they went to visit a distant cousin or something.

Now, as she felt the car move at a rapid pace along the high-speed interstate, she longed for the normalcy of staying in one place again that she never usually had. She missed going to school every day. She missed visiting her grandparents on Sundays and sitting at home afterwards to watch a game show of sorts. She wanted all of this to be a long, overly-strung out nightmare that would end soon, just so she could wake up and continue on with what was a somewhat-normal lifestyle.

When she couldn't bring herself to think straight anymore, she started drifting into unconsciousness, away from the chaos that was reality.

* * *

When she woke up, Anise immediately realized three things;

One, it was nighttime.

Two, someone had stuck a pillow in between the window and her face,

And three, they were parked outside a McDonald's.

Of course-would she expect anything less from Clint? Slowly, she sat up and looked over to see Agent Phillips was now asleep in the passenger seat, while Clint was munching on some French fries.

"Morning sleepyhead." He muttered, taking a sip of his pop.

"Isn't it nighttime?"

"Yeah, but you've been asleep for almost nine hours. We're in Tennessee as of now, and hopefully we'll get to the beach house by morning."

"You're planning on driving this late at night?" She rubbed her eyes as she spoke.

"I got a nice cat nap in; I should be good for a few hours."

She shrugged, adjusting herself in a comfortable sitting position. "If you say so."

He put the SUV in drive and sped off without another word, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. While he drove, Anise dug through her duffel bag and found the files she was looking for-her parent's will. Pulling out her phone as a makeshift book light, she started reading through the carefully penned words over and over, just to let it sink in.

Meanwhile, Clint glanced back for a second to see Anise looking through the will in his rear view mirror. She looked up momentarily, then continued scanning the document. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, which made her look up again.

"So maybe we could head to the beach or do something fun while we're in town-how's that sound?"

She nodded in agreement. "That would be interesting I guess."

"Alright then." He muttered, focusing on the road again. He didn't know whether to bring her parent's death up again, but he didn't want to pretend like everything was all rainbows and sunshine. Deciding to leave her to her own thoughts, he allowed the car to press on in silence.

* * *

All in all, the trip to Miami from Illinois took about eighteen hours, including various bathroom breaks and driver switches. Each passenger was equally tired and certainly dying for a good night's rest-except for Anise, who slept for a whopping twelve hours.

The SUV climbed up the rocky pass and drove into the side street that seemed to be Tony Stark's driveway. Standing at the doorway, a woman with orange-blonde hair was smiling with bright pearly whites that matched her blouse. She walked towards them as the car came to a halt and each passenger stepped out.

"Ms. Potts, good to see you."

"Nice to see you too, Clint."

She shook hands with Agent Phillips as well and offered him a coffee break before he left, but he quickly denied and said he had urgent matters to attend to afterwards.

"And you must be Clint's new friend?" She looked behind the man to see Anise grabbing a duffel bag from the backseat.

She seemed to be taken aback from the "friend" comment, figuring she would simply be referred to as his assignment, nothing more. "Ahh yeah, I'm Anise, by the way."

"I'm Pepper Potts, nice to meet you." They briefly shook hands before she moved out of the way and began talking with Clint again, asking them how their trip had gone and such. Anise, taking the hint, took her things inside and left the three alone to chat.

Making sure she was a far enough distance away, Pepper deemed it to be an appropriate opportunity to ask about his new companion. "She seems kind of shaken. Did something happen?"

Clint ran his hands through his short hair. "Her parents…they-"

"I understand." Looking back through the glass door, the two watched as Anise marveled at the various sculptures and expensive furnishings, to her own shock.

"Well, let's head inside, shall we?" She said, leading the way for the archer.


	7. Chapter 7

"So you just turned fifteen, right?" Pepper took a sip of her coffee as she spoke to the new guest, who was distracted by a particular Andy Warhol style painting of Tony Stark with the word "hero" under his portrait. Clint had to nudge her in the side to snap her back into reality.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, just a month ago, actually."

"Well that's exciting!"

"Mhm." Clint wandered off into the kitchen to fill up his cup again while the girls continued talking about random nuances. He glanced around at the shiny new countertops and stainless steel pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. Everything had a vague sense of new, as he remembered Tony mentioning he was planning to remodel this kitchen and a few of the bathrooms the last time he was here. He had been on a paid vacation by SHIELD, along with Steve, Natasha, and the owner of the mansion himself when he last came to visit, which was something close to two years ago. The peace and quiet was a needed respite after the havoc at New York, but it only lasted for a short while before Clint and Natasha had yet again been called out for a new international mission.

"I noticed you were looking at a lot of the artwork and sculptures-are you interested in becoming an artist?" Pepper's cheery voice even reached the kitchen, just enough for Clint to hear.

"Kind of, it's more like a hobby I guess. I would like to learn photography though."

Looking out through the glass window, Clint watched as various beachgoers lazed around in the sand. They reminded him of his last visit here, especially when he managed to stuff a crab down Tony's swim trunks. He smiled to himself, even though he felt a new realization tug at him.

_I haven't talked to Natasha in over two weeks. _

He frowned, begging to wonder if she was as worried about him as he was about her. The last he had heard, she was somewhere in Alaska, working out some Russian drug dealer case that she had been on for at least six weeks. "I'm a professional SHIELD agent, not some mediocre police man you call in for ridiculous cases like these." she had bitterly muttered before giving Clint an awkward hug goodbye. "You take what you can get, though, and this is all I've got. See you later, Clint."

The sudden thought of Natasha dead in a snow bank suddenly hit him. He knew she could handle herself in any situation presented to her, but then again, he always heard the stories about the class A professionals who died on a rookie-level mission. But maybe the case was more than she had expected, and she let her guard down at the wrong time, leading to her own death.

He couldn't run fast enough to find his cell phone.

Sure, it wasn't very smart for a secret agent to have a cell phone when it could easily drop his cover, but he took the risk anyway. He liked the simple comfort of knowing he could call anyone when he needed to at any moment, and he was careful about who he called and when, too. Although he was one of the only agents to have a cell phone, he was smart about using it, just so the privilege wouldn't be taken away from him within seconds, as SHIELD had always warned him.

Digging through his bag, he looked to the bottom where his old Blackberry was buried between various t-shirts and jeans.

_No new messages_

He sighed, partially in disappointment. Taking it upon himself, he decided to call Natasha while he still had the chance.

After three rings, she picked up. "Hello?"

"Natasha?"

"Yes?"

"…..Hi."

She laughed, breathing into the receiver loud enough for Clint to hear. "Hi Clint." He laughed back, just happy to hear her voice again. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh- I'm doing well, thanks for asking."

"How's the mission going?"

"Well, it'd be going better if these damn Russians didn't know how to hide their drugs so well. We've found one supply, but we've been getting messages that we're only touching the tip of the iceberg."

"I thought you had the professionals on the case."

"Yeah, if you consider professionals to be complete and total sellouts with a habit of blowing our cover whenever the opportunity arises" She remarked with a snarky tone. Someone yelled at her in another language on her end of the conversation, to which she yelled back in a similar manner. He vaguely recognized some French words here and there. With a huff of indignation, she returned to the conversation, in English this time.

"How's witness protection program treating you?"

He sneaked a peek into the living room, where Pepper and Anise glanced over at him from a distance. He took the hint that he was distracting them from their conversation and walked outside onto the balcony area. "Oh, it's different than what I expected."

"Really? How so?"

He paused. "I dunno. It's been…interesting, I suppose."

"Stark texted me a few hours back saying you had to relocate to his beach house-what kind of interesting are you talking about, exactly?"

"A kind of interesting I don't understand. There's something they're not telling me or Anise, and it's making me curious as to what SHIELD is trying to hide."

"Wait-who's Anise?"

"The girl they asked me to watch." He picked at his fingernails, clearing out some flecks of dirt.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, you were saying?"

"Her parents died in an accident a few days ago, and she's been under their watch for over three months, but no reason as to why. Have you heard of anything suspicious going on lately?"

"Not anything that would be related to your case, but the base has been in a kind of frenzy lately."

"What have you heard?"

She huffed, breathing into the receiver. "There's been a rumor going around about a hostage case and they have reason to believe Loki or some of his minions are the ones behind it."

"When did you hear this?"

"About three hours ago. I figure someone would've told you by now."

"Natasha, they don't tell me anything anymore."

"They just don't want to stress you out any more than you already are about Loki."

"I never said I was stressing out about Loki." He emphasized his words carefully, trying to convince her that he wasn't lying. "That damn psychiatrist wanted a nice paycheck, and she's been telling them lies since day one. You know I'm doing perfectly okay on my own."

"Clint-"

"Tell me you don't see it."

"Excuse me?"

Gripping the handrail of the balcony with one white-knuckled hand, he spoke quietly. "Tell me you don't think they're up to something. There's a reason I'm here right and not halfway across the world, and you know I'm right."

"I'm not saying that you're wrong, Clint." Her tone was just as harsh and strained as his. "I'm just saying that you should just focus on getting the mission accomplished for now. The more stress you show, the more they won't tell you and the more likely you'll have to start back at the psychiatrist again. Just try and lay low, alright? I've got to go, we've got a lead."

Taking a minute to release his grip on the railing, he calmed himself down and returned to a normal speaking voice. "Alright. Oh, and Nat?"

"Yeah?"

"Knock 'em dead."

He could tell she was smiling on her end of the receiver, even if he wasn't looking at her face to face. The thought made him smile as well.

"You got it." And with that, the line went dead. He pressed the "end" button and stuffed the phone in his pocket. Now reassured that Natasha was alive and okay, he could start to relax. The thought of Loki and all the lying in his workplace bothered him, but he couldn't let it show. He knew Pepper would start to worry again, even though he had told her enough times that he was perfectly fine. The other Avengers didn't know what to make of him; they kindly respected that the events that had unfolded in New York left a somewhat traumatic mark on him, but he had grown away from that pain and moved on. Nick Fury and Maria Hill were some of the many people who disagreed and thought he still needed to be under careful watch. They sent various field agents to watch him during his daily life, which started bothering him greatly at first, but he eventually became used to the attention and moved on as if he didn't know any better. He still went on missions, completing them as quickly and efficiently as possible, but he wasn't assigned anything too big, just in case he would "snap", as his psychiatrist has called it. Clint still held firm to the belief that she was only in it for the money.

"Clint? Are you alright?" Pepper had slid open the glass door to check on him, and Anise was standing inside, looking out as well.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine. I just had to make a call."

"Are you sure? Because if you need anything-"

"Thank you Pepper, but I'm perfectly fine."

She stared back with a stony expression, something similar to what Tony would do if he thought you weren't telling the truth. Nodding, she turned to go back inside. "Well, I was just telling Anise that I have some papers to work on, but you're free to give a tour or just look around."

"Okay, thank you Pepper."

"You're welcome" She smiled warmly at the two before leaving. Anise took the hint as her opportunity to sit on the balcony as well.

"So I heard you mention a Natasha, isn't that your lady friend you talked about earlier?"

He smirked and looked over to where she was casually leaning on the railing, hands clenched in a fist. "None of your business, pipsqueak."

She smiled back, grinning the same toothy grin she had a habit of forming. "You know, one of these days you're going to have to tell me something to feed my curiosity."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! I might just _die _if I don't meet her; I need to know who's got you all up in a frazzle. It's literally killing me right now."

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm not saying I'm expecting any introductions right away, just in the near future would be nice."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. Now how about some lunch then? And no McDonald's please, I think I've had enough Chicken McNuggets for a lifetime."


	8. Chapter 8

"Clint?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have we been here so far?"  
"Three days. Why?"

"Just wondering." Anise was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating Chinese takeout while Clint haphazardly tried to pick up a signal on the television.

"I don't understand why a billionaire like Tony can't get a better cable service."

"Or an easier to understand TV." Anise muttered.

He was grinning when he spoke. "That too."

When he finally flicked to a working channel, he sat down and ate dinner as well. They mindlessly watched some program about the most popular rock bands of all time, when Clint spoke up.  
"How long has it been since we did any training?"

"The last time we did any training was before we left."

Clint nodded, digging back into his rice to think over what they should do. Although they had spent a nice amount of time at Stark Mansion, they hadn't done anything productive other than help Pepper with some minor jobs here and there. She had left the day before to head back to New York for some conference, saying something about coming back in a few days.

"How would you like to learn how to use a bow and arrow?"  
Anise almost choked on her Chicken Lo Mein when he spoke. "Since when did I graduate to bow-and-arrow lessons?"

"Since today. Now would you like to learn how or not?"

"I'd love to."

"Good." He left quickly, muttering something about grabbing his arrows. Anise didn't mind, she just focused on the TV. When he came back, he set two bows, a shiny metallic quiver, and a pile of extra arrows on the counter, which all clinked on the marble surface. She studied the weapons with intense curiosity. She eyed the arrows in the quiver especially, noticing how different they looked from what she knew arrows to look like. The point was fairly large, which made the thought of being impaled by one of the arrows a painful thought to think about.

"Why do the arrows in the quiver have a bigger tip than the others?" She picked one up to explain her point, but in a hasty movement, Clint reached over and stole an arrow back from her. She frowned as he put it back into its place without a second thought.

"The ones in the quiver have bombs on the end, that's why."

Her eyes widened. "Oh. Well, alright then."

"Don't worry; we'll start you with the basic arrows. Certainly wouldn't want you blowing up anything around here."

"Okay, good." She said, laughing to herself.

Once they finished eating, they moved downstairs to an empty car garage, where Clint had set up some makeshift targets for practice. On the other side of the makeshift shooting range were various pictures of Tony Stark, blurry shots taken by the paparazzi.  
"I don't know how Tony Stark would feel if he knew we were using pictures of him for target practice."

"He wouldn't mind, it'd probably be an ego boost for him."

"As if his ego could get any bigger." She muttered, smiling mischievously. Clint laughed, despite the fact that Tony was one of his close friends.

"JARVIS, don't tell Tony we said that."

"Of course, Master Clint."

Setting his quiver on his back, he picked up his half-bent bow and snapped it to its full size. He handed Anise the smaller bow, who eyed the instrument with interest while Clint picked up an arrow. She was unsure what to do with the weapon, or what Clint was expecting her to do, as she couldn't even figure out how to hold the bow.

"You know, it's not made of glass."

"I know. But I've never practiced archery in my life. I don't even know how to hold it."

"Here." He demonstrated with his own bow, and after moving around fingers to the right places and creating a proper grip, she had a good idea on how it worked.

"Good. Now first you need to nock your arrow."

"I need to what my what?"

He sighed, picking up an arrow and handing it to her. "You need to nock your arrow. First, point your bow to the ground."

Following his instructions, she held her bow in the direction he had pointed at. "Like this?"

"Yup. Now you see this little chip in the back of the arrow?"

"Mhm."

"Put that against the string and then set the tip on the arrow rest. Pull the bow up towards your target, then put your index finger on top of the arrow and your middle and ring finger under the arrow."

"Okay, now what?"

"Pull the string back towards your face-"

"Where exactly?"

"Anywhere you feel comfortable. Then when you're ready, aim and fire."

Taking a deep breath and focusing on one of the pictures of Tony, she relaxed and let her grip on the arrow release. It flew with breathtaking speed past the parked cars, seeming to be on a direct path to its target, but unfortunately, the arrow missed and hit the cement wall a few meters away with a loud thud. Anise frowned, but Clint was smiling, congratulating her and patting her on the back.

"Good job, kid."

"But I didn't even hit the target."

"You still had a nice shot, though. Pretty good for your first time with a bow and arrow."

She laughed. "If you say so."  
"Don't be so down on yourself, you'll figure it out soon. You just have to-"

"Try again. I know, I know." She muttered, picking up another arrow with clumsy fingers and taking a long amount of time to nock it again.

"Now you're getting it."


	9. Chapter 9

In total, it took three days for Anise to finally hit one of the targets Clint had set up. She barely made the edge of Tony's neatly groomed goatee, but she still made it, and that was certainly a worthy cause to celebrate.

Pepper was back in town, but only for a few more days, as she had yet another string of press conferences to attend in the near future. She liked having Anise around and was slowly making something of a friendship with the girl, so it was only fitting that she suggested they should get some ice cream in the city after Anise's latest feat. But not just any ice cream-no, you couldn't just pass with knock off Dairy Queen Blizzards. You had to get frozen custard-the best kind there is, according to Clint.

So without hesitation, the three piled into Pepper's convertible and spent the evening at a local frozen custard restaurant called Danny's, where Pepper just happened to know the owner.

"Tony comes here all the time, the owner just loves him. Maybe I could sweet talk him into giving us a discount!" She says with a wink, walking over to a bar area where a somewhat rotund man with a large moustache was holding his hands out and saying something in Italian. Pepper greeted the man with an amiable smile and they talked for what seemed like hours in only a few minutes. Clint cleared his throat, looking out the window to give Pepper a gentle reminder that they were still there.

"Oh! Sorry guys! Danny, you've met Clint before-"

"Nice to see you, Danny." He smiled, sitting on a barstool by Pepper. Anise rigidly followed, sitting in between the two.

"Clint! How you doin? You still in the uh…the spy business?" His accent was heavily Italian, enough that it sounded almost fake. His lips were curved in an upward smile, one that radiated unfiltered curiosity.

"You could say that."

"Good, good! Well it's nice to see you! Good to have some familiar faces around here, eh? All my regulars are busy with work and family and then I have all these uptown kids instead! It's not very fun around here without my good old regulars, Pepper. Especially Tony-speaking of which, how's he doin?"

"He's doing well, Danny. He's been working with Bruce on some new clean energy projects, so he's certainly had his hands full."

"Aah, Bruce! He's a good kid. He just needs to eat more meat, he's barely got any muscle on 'em, eh?"

Clint choked on his spit, to everyone else's dismay. Danny, being the suave man he was, went on with the conversation anyway.

"But I like that Bruce. I'm glad he is keeping Tony company, certainly wouldn't want him being lonely without his Pepper."

Pepper smiled, a faint hue of pink appearing on her cheeks. "Of course"

Danny laughed to himself, his belly creating a deep baritone sound that filled the almost empty ice cream parlor. He suddenly moved his gaze to Anise, who was smiling at the man as if he was a lost relative of some sorts. "I do not believe I have met you before." He asked.

Pepper began to speak for Anise. "Danny, this is Anise, she's Clint's-"

"Niece. She's my niece." Clint said, smiling at the somewhat shocked Anise. Danny smiled even more, looking at the girl with interest.

"Clint, I didn't know you had a niece! Pleasure to meet you."

"You too, Danny." She turned to Danny, allowing herself a faint smile. She liked this amiable man already. She wished she could get to know him more, and that she could come to this ice cream parlor every day, just to hear the way he talked to people. It was the opposite of her strict parents, whose voices talked so quickly and quietly that she could barely understand a word they were saying.

"Anise, do you like custard?" He said, pulling out a menu and handing it to the ebony-haired girl.

"Of course"

"Well then, have anything you want, on the house! Any friend of Clint and Pepper's is a friend of mine, and I certainly don't make friends pay for their ice cream."

"Thank you, Danny."

"Don't mention it!" Laughing again, he pats her on the shoulder and moves to the kitchen to check on their ice cream supply. The three were left alone as Anise mulled over the long list of rare custard combinations.

"I like him, he's nice" She says as a passing thought, not lifting her gaze from the menu. Pepper is smiling as she looks though the list of milkshakes. "Me too. I should have Tony visit him sometime; he treats Tony like he's his only son, although Danny treats everyone like that."

"I could see that"

After careful browsing, Clint ordered a double chocolate brownie custard, Pepper ordered a vanilla milkshake, and Anise ordered an M & M custard. After cleaning up the restaurant and moving the "Open" sign to "Closed", Danny put away his work uniform and sat down with the three on the other side of the bar and talked about random things for what seemed like a small eternity. None of them minded, though. He told them stories about his children and grandchildren and his dog, Lenny, and this sweet girl down the street who brought his wife flowers after she had hip surgery, and all these other little moments in the beautiful life that was Danny Bianchi's. He asked about Clint and Pepper and Anise's lives as well, though. With wide brown chocolate eyes, he listened as Clint told him how Natasha was doing and about his latest missions, and Pepper talked about the company and Tony's latest antics, and Anise, Anise told him what seemed like everything. He asked her question after question, as if he was an interviewer of sorts. He wanted to know about her family and her school life and if there were any cute boys at school (which she didn't feel uncomfortable talking about, although Clint felt somewhat awkward) and he even wanted to know the most minute things, like her favorite kind of candy and her favorite family vacation. He must have known how to get to her because of his experience with kids (he has 7 children and 18 grandchildren, with one on the way), and because of this, Anise didn't ever want to leave the restaurant, even if her life even depended on it.

But it was pushing twelve o clock and Pepper, oh Pepper, frantic as ever, started haphazardly spazzing about her meeting with her board officials in six hours. Danny apologized so often, feeling so responsible for everything. He rushed to turn off the kitchen lights and muttered phrases in Italian as he went.

"Oh Danny, it's okay! I can just cancel, it's no big deal."

"No no no, I'm so sorry Ms. Potts, I didn't mean to make you stay, I need to learn to close my mouth you know, that's what Rita always tells me, I need to just learn to be quiet, and oh, there I go again, silly me!" He says, grabbing his coat in a fluster. Clint is directing Anise towards the door, trying to help her put on her coat after realizing she's putting it on backwards. Pepper still tries calming down the flustered shop owner, but in a rush, he pushes all of them outside towards the convertible.

"I will see you all later, yes? Now Clint, you make sure these lovely ladies get home safe, eh?"

"Will do, Danny. Have a good night." He waves, along with Anise and Pepper.

"Good night, Ms. Potts and Ms. Anise and Mr. Barton!" He walks off in a rush, still embarrassed about the whole situation.

"Oh Danny. I just don't know what to do with him sometimes." Pepper says as she gets in the driver's seat.

Clint smiles, leaning back and shaking his head. "Neither do I."

But Anise sits quietly in the back, grinning at the stars as Pepper drives back to the mansion as if she knows some dirty little secret.

The next day, Danny doesn't know what to think when he sees a five dollar bill and a folded napkin stained with melted M & M ice cream that says "Thank You!" in the corner. But he smiles to himself anyways, leaving the five dollars for the next lucky customer and pinning the napkin to a bulletin board in the kitchen.


	10. Chapter 10

"Clint! C'mon, it's movie night!" Anise called from the living room. She was munching on the microwave popcorn while she leafed through a pile of Tony's various DVDs.

They had agreed to have movie nights after two or three days of training, just to break up the monotony of bow and arrow practice. All in all, Anise wasn't an awful shooter, but at the same time, she still needed a lot of practice. She could hit the targets with more consistency, but her arm suffered every time, as it was at that moment, even though Clint had given her two arm guards to protect from the backlash of the bow. Thinking back to the last practice, she rubbed her arm and hissed under her breath.

"One second!" The toilet flushed and not before long, Clint appeared in the living room. "So what'd you pick?"

"Well, since you haven't seen Fight Club or Forrest Gump before, I think we should watch one of those. You pick-"She held up the two movies in question and moved to the couch for him to decide which they would watch. After a careful decision, they decided to watch both, starting with Forrest Gump.

Although Clint thought Forrest Gump was a little too sappy for his tastes, he kind of liked it. He liked Bubba especially, and for some reason, he reminded him a bit of Coulson. They were both two selfless characters in the wrong place at the wrong time. But then again, Coulson wouldn't be one to want to own a shrimp company.

After the movie was over, Anise pulled out the disc and set in the DVD for Fight Club. While Clint read the description on the back cover, Anise got up, muttering something about getting more popcorn.

The whole time he was waiting, he felt the atmosphere change to a dull chill. His senses felt heightened by the seemingly-colder air, and he couldn't help but to stay on his guard, even though he had no clue as to what he was trying to protect himself from.

He had a vague idea what it was when he heard a glass crash in the kitchen.

Anise flicked through the various beverage choices in Tony Stark's fridge with a look of dismay. She couldn't decide on a cherry Pepsi or a Sprite, and since she couldn't pick one or the other, she settled for mixing the two in her own kind of combination. As she set the two sodas on the counter, she couldn't help but feel someone watching her. She froze in the best deer-in-the-headlights pose she could muster, but she heard nothing. Not like she could tell anyways-the trailers playing on the TV were muffling the disturbed silence.

Returning back to her drink, she opened one of the upper pantry cabinets and pulled out a glass, only to turn around and drop it with a sickening crack on the floor.

Standing a mere two feet away from her was a figure in a full black jumpsuit. The intruder was obviously a woman by the way her curves were outlined in the spandex of the suit and by the way her lips were a bloody red, but Anise couldn't pick out any more details before she lunged at her throat. The woman's cold fingers grasped her neck in a strangle as Anise's head slammed against the kitchen counter. Anise tried flipping the woman off of her, but she obviously had more training in self-defense and martial arts than what Anise had been working on over the past three weeks. She could barely breathe or make any sense of what was going on, why all of this was happening.

The woman snickered as she released some of the grasp on her throat to pull out a knife from a random back pocket. She held it against her skin before she began to speak. "My client assured me that you were a high priority to kill, so I figured you would be a bit of a challenge-I didn't expect you to go down so easy."

Even though she took somewhat of an offense at her words, something clicked in her mind when she heard the word "client". "What client? Who are you working for?"

"Nobody you need to worry about, sweetheart-not like you'll be seeing him anytime soon." Her accent was vaguely British, but possibly Scottish, Anise couldn't decipher which. The mystery woman traced the blade's edge across her skin, which only made Anise even more nervous. "I'll make it easy and painless, I promise."

"Anise!" Clint's voice was close and before she could understand how close it was, he pulled the mystery woman by her long brown hair and threw her across the room. He helped Anise up as quickly as possible, but the woman was fast, and certainly motivated to finish her job. She attacked Clint with a well-aimed fist, hitting him in the eye. He took the hit but didn't falter, instead giving a similar blow to her gut, where she clenched over in pain. Taking a few deep breaths, she stood up and looked at them both with a hard stare. Her breathing became heavy and ragged, like an insane wolf of some sorts.

"I won't have you bloody Americans get in the way of my money!" She hissed. In one solid move, the knife flew from her wrist and landed in Anise's side. She crumbled to the ground in an instant. Clint was on his toes though, acting unfazed as he quickly moved and smashed the woman's head against the marble counter, which created quite a break in her skull. In seconds, blood gushed from her temple and she was tracing the thin strand between life and death as she fell on the floor again. Leaning against the counter for support as she began to die, she didn't move, but instead, she only spoke a few words, in a hoarse whisper. "I wasn't supposed to die like this." Her eyes looked at Clint with a lost, glazed over look. When they fixed on Clint, the first thing he thought was that they were the same color as Loki's eyes.

"You should've thought about that before you agreed to kill someone, then."

Almost saddened by the sight of the woman, Clint took her own knife and put it through her heart. She did nothing, as she realized she couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. She was smiling when she died, which only seemed to haunt Clint even more.

"Anise, you alright?" He was still staring at the woman in front of him, wondering how he was supposed to clean up such a mess. "Anise? It's okay, she's dead. Anise-"When he turned around, he could barely breathe. Still crumpled up on the floor, Anise was holding her side and looked as if she was shaking.

He knelt down immediately, still in shock and still trying to realize what was going on. "Anise! Anise, just stay with me."

"Clint?" She looked up at his face, which was now a sort of grimace. He couldn't stop staring at her face, covered in all that blood. There was a small amount trickling down from her temple and some leaking from the corner of her mouth. She coughed, and more blood came up on the corners of her lips.

"I'm right here, it's alright. JARVIS, call 911!"

"They're on their way, sir."

"Anise, can you hear me?"

"…Yeah." She was still shaking, but not as badly now.

"I need to get the knife out of your side."  
"What? No!"

"It'll make some of the pain go away, and we can't risk any infection. It'll only take a second, alright?"

"But it…hurts." She could barely muster speaking, as everything she said was close to a whisper. She coughed up some more blood, which only further stained Clint's bloody shirt.

"Just trust me. You trust me, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I need you to get your hands off the knife then, alright?" With slow understanding, she lifted her hands off the handle of the knife and gripped Clint's outstretched arm tightly. Both her hands were clammy and cold, to his dismay. In one quick movement, he pulled the knife out and set it to the side, covering up the wound with a kitchen towel. Her breathing became heavier and she was gripping his arm so tightly that her knuckles were a ghostly white.

"It's okay Anise, the ambulance is on their way, you're gonna be okay." He was wiping her forehead with her sweatshirt sleeves, but she didn't seem to sense the movement. Her eyelids were half closed as she focused on his face.

"Who are you…talking to?"  
He looked back at the girl. "What do you mean?"

"Are you…telling yourself or...are you telling…me?" He paused, leaning back and thinking slowly on her words. Was he trying to reassure her or himself? The way he talked, the way he was panicky and flighty, it almost seemed like he didn't even know the outcome himself. She seemed reassured about what was going to happen, and whether it was a good or bad ending in her mind, he couldn't tell.

Shaking his head, he returned to wiping blood and sweat off where he could. "Not now, Anise. Just stay with me, alright?"

"I'm…trying."

"Sir, the ambulance is outside."

"Let 'em in, JARVIS."

The front door slammed open and in an instant, a large group of medical officers and paramedics were swarming to Anise's side, lifting her up on the gurney in what seemed like seconds. They looked over the intruder's body, only confirming what Clint knew. He ignored the questioning police officers and followed the trail of paramedics to the ambulance.

"Sorry sir, only immediate family is allowed." One of them tried pushing Clint away, but he found his way back up to the front of the crowd.

"Well, I'm the only immediate family she has."

The one he had addressed earlier lowered his glasses and looked him up and down in careful examination. "Sir, I understand you're worried about this girl's welfare but-"

"I'm her father, now can I get a ride?" Clint crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at the small paramedic. He was hoping his poor lying skills could get him through, just this once. He was mustering all the effort he could put into the lying techniques Natasha had taught him in their spare time.

With a sigh, the man stepped into the vehicle and made as much room as he could. "Just try not to interfere too much, sir." He muttered, with a vain emphasis on the 'sir'.

Clint wasted no time, sitting down in the chilly vehicle in the furthest corner of the ambulance as the paramedics did their best to fix what they could before she would go into surgery. The whole way there, his mind was racing, his heart beating to another person's clock. Questions filled every crevice of his mind, leaving him on the edge and unable to calm down, no matter how hard he tried. Who was that woman? Why was she hired to kill Anise? Who was planning all of this? Why now? Why Anise? What was so special about this girl that someone had her on their hit list?

"Clint?" Anise's voice was a hoarse whisper. Her breathing was deep again, but this time supported by the oxygen mask she was wearing.

"I'm right here, kid."

She smiled under the plastic cover over her mouth. "Are you...alright?"

He couldn't help but to laugh to himself. She was still smiling, and even one of the paramedics was grinning under his mask. "After all of that, you're worried about me?"  
"Well, you look kind of…sad."

"Don't worry about me, I'm just fine. Get some sleep."

She laughed again as he sat down next to her. If the paramedics were bothered by Clint's presence, they didn't make an effort to say anything. They worked as if he wasn't even there, which seemed almost true, because of how quiet the marksman was the entire ride. Anise was asleep in almost seconds, but Clint was wide awake, making sure she was still breathing.  
On the inside, he felt that he only had himself to blame. He hadn't kept a more careful eye, he hadn't checked the security cameras more, and he hadn't done any of the things he should normally be doing. He let his guard down for once, and he almost lost Anise because of it. Would he lose his job because of this? No, he couldn't-he had too much of a ranking and things didn't turn out as bad as they could have, so he would be alright. Or would he? He looked at Anise again-her face was a pale white, almost ghostly in the bright ambulance lights. Her forehead had a thin layer of sweat and her muscles looked tense and strained, even though she was sleeping. Looking at her made him feel even guiltier, and made him realize how much more seriously he needed to take this mission. Whoever was after Anise was certainly serious about getting what they wanted.  
Stroking a few stray hairs out of her face, he rubbed her forehead and returned to his original post in the corner. He made a quiet promise to himself as he waited, telling himself that he wouldn't let any harm come to this girl, even if it meant certain death.


End file.
